Whispers in the UnderWorld
by Santai
Summary: It had started as a normal day when one dishevelled and scared Irene Adler had knocked on their door, and Holmes and Watson had suddenly found themselves in over their heads; but perhaps they had been destined to be involved anyway? Pre-film


**This is a joint story by myself and Kaizoku-Taii!! Really hope you like it. Obviously, this is just the first chapter, but still....reviews much appreciated!!! (As much as we would love to, neither of us own Sherlock Holmes, :( )) Rated T for violence in later chapters**

With a frustrated sigh, Watson banged a fist on the door to his own room. There was a moment's silence before a knock from the other side of the door replied. Watson frowned then knocked again.

"Holmes!" he called, angrily.

Holmes returned the knock from the other side of the door again, "Watson," he replied, pleasantly.

"Stop being such a child, Holmes."

"What has he done, now?" Mrs. Hudson asked from the bottom of the stairs.

Watson ran an agitated hand through his hair, "He has locked me out."

She frowned, "Whatever for?"

"I would love to know that myself, Mrs. Hudson."

Mrs. Hudson shook her head, "Shall I fetch you a chair? I suspect you will be there for a while."

He shook his head, "No, no, don't trouble yourself, he will grow bored eventually."

Holmes chuckled, "You underestimate my attention span, my dear friend."

"Open the door, Holmes," Watson growled through gritted teeth.

"You wish me to open the door for you Watson? Really, you are becoming more and more reliant upon me. Just this morning you wished me to fetch your hat from the floor."

"Yes, the floor below the window where you threw it."

"I'm sure you were more than capable of collecting it yourself."

"I did," Watson hissed, "Which is why I am now stood out in the corridor! Let me in!"

"I'm sure you can let yourself in."

Grabbing the door handle, Watson tried to open it. It didn't move.

There was what sounded like an all too happy snigger from the room.

"Unlock the door."

"On the contrary, it is already unlocked. It appears our present predicament results from the ingenious application of my new resin."

Watson had to refrain from banging his head repeatedly against the door, "Let me guess...the same damn resin you used to stick my cane to the floor no doubt," he said as he moved to the next door along.

"The very same. I used it on the other doors as well."

Watson took a deep calming breath as his hand hovered over the other door handle.

"Please enlighten me as to the purpose of sticking all of our doors closed!"

"Ah, well, it was to test the effectiveness on the different types of wood."

"These are all made of the same kind of wood, Holmes."

There was a 'hmm' as a knuckle rapped against the inside of the door, "So it seems. Then there was no specific point at all."

Watson closed his eyes and sighed, "Not even your mind can comprehend how infuriated I am at this very point."

He could almost see the detective's smirk, "Yes, yes. Although, I must say that I am not excessively concerned. There is a large, oak door now stuck between me and your, undoubtedly, terrible wrath."

"When I get back in there I am going to take your violin, throw it under a horse, burn the remains and throw the ashes into the Thames."

Holmes laughed again, "Your plan for revenge rests on one flawed component. There is a considerable difference between when and if."

"I think I'm bordering on hatred, Holmes."

"Now, doctor where is your impeccable patience? The effects of the resin should wear off eventually."

"My cane was stuck to the floor for three straight days."

"Ah yes..."

Before could put his shoulder to the door to break it down, there was a tap on his shoulder. He turned to find Mrs. Hudson stood behind him with a cup of tea in her hand. He sighed gratefully and smiled.

"Oh, Mrs. Hudson," he said, taking the tea, "You are my anchor of sanity."

"I quite honestly don't how you can put up with, Doctor. He is no more than an immature buffoon."

Holmes cleared his throat, "You will find, Nanny, that despite the door, my hearing is not impaired."

"I am quite aware of the fact, Mr. Holmes," with that she descended the stairs, proud of yet another small victory over her tenant.

Watson leant against the wall, sipping gratefully from the teacup. One upside of being locked out of his room that he could enjoy at least a couple of minute's peace and quiet. He was stood there for no more than three of those glorious minutes before there was a knock at the front door. With a frown, Watson came out of his lean and began to descend the stairs. He wasn't half way down before a noise behind him made him turn.

Holmes was leaning out of their doorway, also frowning at the front door. After a moment he tilted his head at Watson.

"Who is it?" he asked.

Watson glared at him, "The door wasn't stuck was it, Holmes?"

"Whatever gave you that idea?" Holmes regarded him, trying and failing to keep and straight face.

Immediately, Watson abandoned the teacup and charged back up the stairs. Holmes' eyes flew wide and he slammed the door shut again. Watson grabbed the door handle and shook it violently, while cursing Holmes' name loudly to as many hells and gods he could think of, determined to break the lock on the door.

"Doctor, please!" Mrs. Hudson admonished from the bottom of the stairs, doubtless not wanting to scare away their visitor. Watson growled and rapped once on the door in anger before silencing himself and leaning against it to watch Mrs. Hudson pull it open. He hunkered down from his position so as to better see the door, but found that Mrs. Hudson was impairing his view, leaving him only with glances of green silk or satin, and a large feathered hat. His friend's sudden silence spoke volumes about how aggravated he was that he couldn't sate his curiosity. Watson smirked to himself and continued to watch the door.

"You know" He said "If it's a client, you will have to come out."

"If it's a client, old boy," Holmes countered with a smug voice "You will have to be on your _best _behaviour." Watson only 'hmm'ed distractedly in response, still watching the door. Mrs Hudson talk to the visitor, making a placating action with her hands, apparently telling the woman to wait there. And with that, Mrs. Hudson turned away and walked back towards the stairs. On seeing Watson, she pulled up short.

"Shall I let her in, Doctor?" She asked, apparently at least slightly aware of whom this woman was.

"Ms Adler?" Watson asked incredulously, quite sure that the woman had disappeared off the face of the earth after she had conned Holmes into helping her steal a priceless artefact but a year ago – and yet here she was, standing on the doorstep. Watson had had little to do with her then, but had been around enough to know exactly who she was.

"Who?!" Came an indignant squawk from the other side of the door; followed almost immediately by the door being unlocked and flung open- right into Watson's head. Watson recoiled violently, thrown sideways as the door got hit again; this time by a rushing detective who had not expected inhibition (in the form of Watson's unfortunate head) on the doors path. The dull 'thunk' of Holmes impacting the door brought a small smirk to Watson's face, as did the emergence of Holmes, a hand clasped to his nose. The moment of joviality was short, however, as the two men locked eyes for a moment then looked down in synchronization towards the hallway, past a rather confused Mrs Hudson to some bright, amused eyes that twinkled with barely controlled laughter.

"Gentlemen," Irene Adler said, "A pleasure to see you, I'm sure."

Watson regained his composure and walked down the stairs; insisting on being civil, well aware that Holmes would be anything but. He did not trust her of course; she had used Holmes to help her in a crime, after all – but at the same time she had helped the both of them solve a particularly confusing case. He was sure she either had a past obligation to Holmes, or a good heart deep inside, and therefore he would not be openly malicious to her. And so, he chose for now to be kind but wary none the less.

He expected that Holmes would just throw kindness to the wind and be downright mistrustful.

He nodded in greeting to Adler.

"The pleasure is ours, Miss Adler" he said politely, eliciting an elegant curtsey from the woman; and a sarcastic snort from his friend. Watson glanced momentarily at the detective, expecting to see open mistrust and barely concealed annoyance - and did a double take at what was actually before him. It took him barely a moment to be put on edge by Holmes's straight back and tense shoulders, the hand clasped neatly behind his back, his eyes cold and contemplative, watching Adler's every move. Gone was the childish man who would lock his friend out of his own room; this was the Holmes that studied crime scenes, much in the same way he was studying the woman in front of them now. Watson, on edge from his friend's sudden and apparent unease. He looked back at Adler in time to see her turn back into the house, having been looking around the surrounding area. Her eyes fell immediately on Holmes, and she smiled sweetly.

"Sherlock." She said in way of greeting, bowing her head again in a small curtsey.

"Woman." Holmes said nasally, swiftly hiding his contemplative look with one of open distain.

"May I come in?" said woman asked with a smile on her face.

"Never" Holmes replied, looking almost affronted by the question; but with a smirk of his own gracing his features slightly. Watson rolled his eyes as Mrs. Hudson tutted, and the doctor used his cane to push Holmes out of the way and indicate for Adler to enter.

"Please, do" He said, stepping back to give her room. As she entered, he noticed a leather case clutched tightly in her hands. He reached out to take it. "Let me, Ms Adler" he said politely; but to Watson's surprise, Adler jerked the bag out of his reach, gripping it to her chest. She seemed to catch herself after a moment and visibly forced herself to relax. She smiled at Watson.

"Thank you, Watson, but I am quite fine. Though it is kind of you to offer; very gentlemanly." She raised an eyebrow pointedly at Holmes, who only snorted in response.

"Allow me to invite you into the lounge, Ms Adler; as you have already been invited into the house," Holmes shot Watson a look "There is no point in leaving you standing in the doorway." He indicated up the stairs, and Adler nodded in a small curtsey, then began her way up stairs. Holmes followed her, but Watson paused and turned back to Mrs. Hudson.

"Perhaps some tea, Mrs. Hudson?" He asked, gaining a smile and a nod from the landlady before she fled to the kitchen. Watson then jogged up the stairs and into the lounge, where Adler was now sat. When Watson arrived, Holmes was trying to excavate his second favourite chair from the rubble of his month without a case. After a moment of rearranging the mess into more suitable positions, he sat down in the chair and faced Adler. There was a moment of silence where Holmes simply watched Adler, the poor woman shifting under his steady gaze. Realizing that Holmes was not going to speak, Watson coughed uncomfortably from his position by the door.

"So, Ms. Adler; to what do we owe the pleasure of your company?" He asked.

"Yes." Holmes said suddenly, cutting Adler's response off. "What is it that you want?" Adler closed her mouth suddenly at the interruption, then smiled slightly.

"I never said I wanted anything" she said, leaning back and crossing her legs "Perhaps I am here for an entirely social capacity?". Holmes chuckled, pulling his pipe from his top pocket and lighting it. He placed it in his mouth with a small smile, still watching Adler closely.

"Yes, perhaps you are" he murmured, raising an eyebrow at her. Watson groaned and rolled his eyes at his friend, walking forward to take his own seat – which was blessedly clear, thanks to a previous agreement with Holmes about placement of mess.

"It is not entirely impossible, Holmes; try to be civil." Watson interjected, drawing Holmes's hawk-like stare to himself. He knew he had made the wrong choice when Holmes sat up and took his pipe out of his lips, smiling widely. Smoke played out of his lips as he spoke.

"You disappoint me, Watson. Once again you have looked and seen; rather than observed and deducted." He used his pipe to tap Adler's bear collar bone "Not a single piece of jewellery; not even earrings." He moved his pipe to indicate her face "-And very little make up; not even any of the normal lovely perfume; but perhaps a small amount or powder to hide the bruise on the side of her face – and yet not enough to hide it from the most astute of observers such as myself, and thus rushed" Adler turned her head away both in annoyance and to hide the bruised side of her face. Holmes took her hands and opened them gently, inspecting them like a palm reader. "Hands are sweaty, either from anxiety and fear or an adrenaline rush from a fight or flight situation, with red skin from continuous wringing; indicating anxiety" he tapped a seemingly random part of her dress "discolouration of the satin on her skirts, implying either numerous days gone without change or some time previous in grimy conditions. Perhaps both - and the red brick dust on the skirts of her dress imply a building sight of sorts; perhaps the recently renovated railway station? Of course the unconcealed smell of oil and smoke only serves to prove my theory that she has travelled immediately here from the station, in a great rush." Holmes placed the pipe back in his mouth, realised his movements had extinguished and lit it again, all the while watching his old acquaintance. Silently, he leant forward and met her challenging gaze. "Tell us, Miss Adler; who are you running from?" Watson turned to look at Adler, and saw for the first time since he had seen her that day raw emotion on her face; fear, loss, worry, confusion.

Adler was scared; no, more than that. Terrified.

Irene Adler was terrified.

Watson sighed; it was going to be a long week.


End file.
